Death is a dancer
I pirouetted at the end of my dance routine. My spinning body started to blur as I spun like a top. The onlookers clapped and nodded at my dancing skills. I slowed down my spin. A bolt of pain stabbed me between the eyes and the dance floor rushed up to meet my head. I stood up and looked around. A barrier of mist circled me and a woman in a body suit strutted in my direction. "Who are you? I asked. "I am the angel of death," she replied. "You are beautiful. Death does not become you," I voiced. "Looks can be deceiving," she remarked. "Where am I?" I said. "You are at the door." "The door?" I queried. "The threshold. The door to death," she answered. She snapped her fingers and said; "Behold." A tunnel appeared and I looked down and saw myself lying on a floor surrounded by people. "Do you want to stay?" she offered. I thought of all the problems of my old life. "I want to stay," I said. A group of men,women and children emerged from the mist. "Go back, go back. The rhythm is going to get you," they quietly chanted. "What do they mean?" I queried. "Few are chosen,fewer still are good enough to stay," she answered. "Oh!" "Before you can stay,you have to pass a test," she continued. "A test?" "Yes. A dance test. You win and you stay." "And if I lose?" "You go back." "So who am I going to dance against?" I asked. "Me," she said. "Who will be the judge?" I asked. "They will," she said pointing to the crowd. "Ok. Ladies first," I started. "No. You first. I insist," she countered.
The music started and I loosened up with a freestyle street dance. "He's not bad," said someone in the crowd. The murmur of approval could be heard. I went into a slick jazz dance routine,changed it into a moonwalk and finished in a contortion of body pop movements. I stopped to thunderous applause. "It's my turn now. Just relax and watch me work," said the angel of death. She started with a graceful ballet move,her body in perfect balance. "Ahh," went the crowd. She went into a salsa,her hips moving in neat gyrations. "Go,angel go!" encouraged the crowd. I stared at her,my lower jaw dropping to the floor. She body popped. I stood,mesmerrised by the contortion of her joints. "Truly,death is a dancer," I thought. She finished her routine with a moonwalk,going backwards and forwards at the same time,while moving from side to side. The crowd went wild. I clapped and nodded my head in admiration. She came up to me and said; "You lose." "It's not fair,you have had more time to practice," I shouted. "Losers weepers," she replied. "I want to stay and dance with you," I cried. "You've got potential," she mused. "Can I stay?" I pleaded. "On two conditions," she replied. "Name them," I said. "You must be prepared to learn and you will be my protege," she explained. "Done," I blurted. The barrier of mist evaporated and the crowd started to chant. "Death is a dancer." "Death is a dancer." "Death is a dancer."
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